Fire Light
by princess peanut
Summary: The boys go up against witches who have a thing for mind games and fire! Things get dangerous when the boys fall prey to their mind games. Warning: Spoilers for season 2! Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Hello there! It's been a while since I've written for Supernatural, but the new season has definitely renewed my interest! So here's the first chapter!

Takes place right after 'No Exit' and will continue on into it's own story.

Warning: May contain spoilers from season 1 and definitely from season 2. Some bad language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam or anything from Supernatural; just playing with them!

Chapter 1:

Dean turned and glared at the door to the Roadhouse. His first instinct was to say how dare they? How dare they accuse _his_ father, John Winchester, of making a mistake. Not the man he worshiped all of his life. John Winchester didn't make the kind of mistakes that got someone else hurt. Of course, that was what his first instinct told him to think. It took a second for his mind to snap back to reality. After everything that had happened this last year, he had come to question the man he thought of as bigger than life. It had become painfully obvious that his father did make mistakes. But no matter what had happened, no matter what Joe or Ellen thought, his father wouldn't let someone get hurt if he could help it. And Dean was not about to walk away from this place without making sure they understood that.

Dean began to stalk to the door. He barley registered Sam's voice behind him asking him what was going on. Dean opened the door forcefully. He was trying very hard to control his anger. Ellen snapped around in surprise as he and Sam entered.

With an irritated look on her face she asked, "What do you need Dean. Cause' I have to be honest with you, I'm not in the mood to talk about this any more with you boys."

Dean snorted, "You've got some nerve lady."

Ellen raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me? Do you have something to say to me?"

Sam stood next to Dean, his eyes darting back and forth between him and Ellen. He had no idea what Jo had said to set his brother off, but he knew this wasn't going to be pretty. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't help himself. "Dean? What's going on?"

Dean's eyes darted to Sam for a second then landed back on Ellen, sending daggers her way. "Why don't you ask dear ol' Ellen here why she would say that Dad got her husband killed?"

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

Ellen nodded her head. "So Jo told you. I'm sorry Dean, but the truth is the truth."

"Doesn't sound like any kind of truth to me. Were you there? Do you know exactly what happened?" Dean asked.

"I know what happened Dean." Ellen paused and took a deep breath. "Look boys, I'm sorry it had to come out this way. I really am sorry John is gone. But after what just happened with my daughter, I think it might be best for you to stay away. Feel free to call Ash, but I don't want you around Jo." She said the last part, making sure she was looking directly at Dean.

Dean's jaw clenched. "No problem lady. But let me get one thing straight. I don't want to hear you talkin' that crap about my dad. You obviously didn't know him as well as you thought. You got it!"

Sam saw as anger flashed in Ellen's eyes. She took a step toward Dean. "Don't you dare speak to me that way. Let me tell you something kid. John Winchester was a cocky son of a bitch who thought he walked on water when it came to hunting. He was pig headed, cocky, and reckless. The only thing he cared about was the hunt, no one else. And you know what? You're just like him." She pointed at Dean.

Dean took a step toward Ellen, and Sam found himself taking a step forward also. Dean would never hit a woman, but Sam wasn't about to place a bet on that right now.

"You don't know me lady!"

"You almost got my daughter killed! You're just as bad as your father. All you care about is your obsession with this demon. And just like John, you're going to get everyone around you hurt or killed!" Ellen was full on screaming now.

Sam fully expected Dean to yell back. Hell he was ready to yell back. He couldn't believe what was happening. But what shocked him even more was what happened next. Dean didn't say a word. He stared at Ellen for a minute, shook his head and turned and walked out the door.

Sam turned to follow him out but stopped and turned back to Ellen. He wasn't about to let this go. In a very calm voice he said, "Thanks for what you've done for us Ellen. But you're wrong. You don't know my brother or me. I don't know what happened with my dad, but you're wrong."

"Sam, why don't you just go back to school. Your brother's heading down the same path as John and it won't be pretty." She said in a soft voice.

Sam had to laugh. "You want to know what's funny Ellen. You're accusing the wrong brother. Dean may be cocky, but he's far from reckless. I've never seen him put himself first in anything, and as far as the obsession goes. You're looking at the Winchester who's been following his father's footsteps. Don't worry, we won't be back around." Sam turned and walked away, leaving behind a very stunned Ellen.

Sam made his way to the Impala. Dean was already sitting behind the wheel, the engine idling. Sam slipped into the passenger seat. Dean didn't say a word, just put the car in gear and took off.

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Dean drove for the next two hours in complete silence. He didn't once look at Sam or turn on the radio. Sam was at a loss for what to say. His mind just couldn't process what had happened or what his father had been accused of. He sat lost in his thoughts, not paying any attention to where they going. Not until the car finally came to a stop. Finally paying attention to what was around him, Sam found himself staring out the window at a computer store.

He turned to Dean and saw him shuffling through his wallet finally pulling out a credit card. "What are we doing?"

"It's time to get you a laptop so you can go back to doing research. This card should have enough on it." With that Dean got out of the card and headed into the store without waiting for Sam.

Surprised, Sam hurried and followed him in. He found Dean standing in front of a display of laptops. "You're the computer whiz. Which one?" Dean asked him.

Looking at the computers Sam found himself forgetting that he didn't like to use the fraudulent credit cards. He missed having his computer so bad. And if they no longer had allies at the Roadhouse, they definitely needed to replace the old one. He found himself fully engulfed in reading what each one had to offer, making sure he picked the right one.

Dean had stood by watching Sam drool over the computers. He had to smile. His brother really was a geek. As much as he would have liked to humor Sam, he didn't think the process should take all day. He cleared his throat, "Dude, they're just computers, pick one already."

Sam glanced up quickly with a sheepish look on his face, "Sorry. Yeah, uh, this one should be fine."

"'Bout time." Dean turned to the store clerk. "We'll take this one."

Fifteen minutes later they had the computer purchased and Sam had them signed up for a new wireless internet service. All fully paid for with credit card fraud, and Sam couldn't have cared less. He finally felt like things were getting back to whatever type of normalcy they once had. As they sat in a diner down the street finishing off their coffee he asked Dean, "So what now?"

Dean smiled his cocky smile, pointed at the computer and said, "Time for you to go to work geek boy. Find us a job."

-TBC-

So that's just the opening. Next chapter will move on to their new job. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Beginning

"Dude, just because you twisted your wrist doesn't mean you don't have to help carry our stuff in." Dean complained as he dropped their bags onto the floor of the motel room.

Sam, who was stretched out on his stomach on the bed, looked up from the laptop. "It's broken Dean, not twisted. You heard the doctor, let it heal." He gave a devilish smirk. "Besides, I'm doing my job. Research."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever wimp. So give me the run down on this thing again."

Sam let the comment slide. Dean had been doing nothing but ribbing him about his broken hand for a week now. He couldn't wait until the cast came off. He was just as tired of it as he was his brother's remarks.

"So back in the late eighteen hundreds this family, the Connors, lived in the house on the outskirts of town. Town rumors were the mother and two daughters were witches. Everyone pretty much steered clear of them. Until some kid in the town came down with an illness that they'd never seen before. The doctors didn't know what was wrong with him. The little boy's friends said that they had been playing in the field near the Connors house when the Mom yelled at them that they were trampling her flowers. After that the kid got sick and the town started screaming witch and curse. They arrested the mom and tried to make her break the curse. She swore she did nothing and couldn't help him. A couple of days later the kid died. The town people took the mom home, let her go back into her house, then lit the place on fire. They killed the mom, dad, the two sisters, and their little brother."

"Damn" Dean shook his head. "Any truth to them being witches?"

"Don't know. Kinda hard to sort through what's a rumor and what's not. I'm still looking. But what is fact is that a house was rebuilt on the property. Actually, ever since it happened someone builds a house on the property, but it mysteriously burns down. Every time. And each time, the family, if they survived, claimed there were strange occurrences before the fire."

"But the house that's there is empty now right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, the family made it out and the fire didn't totally destroy the house this time. But they aren't going back. They took the belongings they wanted and pretty much abandoned the place. There's already a for sale sign, even though the place isn't fixed yet."

Dean glanced at his watch. "Well Sammy boy, it's a little after eight. Up for some recon?"

Sam rolled his eyes at Deans wording, "Yeah, let's go check it out."

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Unfortunately for the them, it turned out that the outskirts of town, wasn't that far out anymore. The house itself stood on a good size piece of property still, but progress was visible all around. New housing tracts and strip malls weren't too far away. And neighbors were closer than they had hoped. Not as much cover as they preferred. But it was dark now and no one pulled off stealthy better than the Winchester brothers.

Dean pulled up the front driveway and killed the headlights. Without words, both of the boys exited the car and made their way to the trunk. When Sam had first come back to the hunt, he and Dean had been slightly off sync. But after the first few weeks, he fell back into the old patterns. Now he and Dean could get ready for a hunt without saying a word to each other, and feel totally confident in the other being fully prepared. Just like now. In total silence and with understanding how each worked, they loaded themselves down with the necessary equipment. Shoulder to shoulder they made their way to the front porch of the house. Sam smiled to himself. It used to be that Dean would walk just ever so slightly in front of Sam. It was always a painful reminder to Sam that he was the youngest and most inexperienced. However, now they walked side by side, and even with all the crap they had been through this last year, and all the fights and arguments, with that small gesture, Dean was showing Sam he looked at him as an equal now. Sam was surprised that gave him such a good feeling, considering how he had felt all of his life about hunting. But now, having his brother's respect meant more than anything.

Dean reached the top step and ducked under the 'Caution' tape. He motioned to Sam and within a few seconds his little brother jimmied the lock and the front door opened. They turned on their flash lights and slinked through the door way. Both were on full alert. Dean pulled the EMF out of his pocket and began sweeping.

Sam stayed close by, taking in the sight before him. The fire had started in the kitchen, according to the fire department. It was under control quickly, but there was still some damage, and a lot of smoke and water damage. But thankfully, the house was still standing solid. He was glad they wouldn't have to worry about it falling down on them.

"Anything?" he asked Dean.

"Uh uh. Nice and quiet." Dean told him as he moved from room to room. "Let's check out upstairs."

Sam nodded and followed him up. As they entered the middle of the hallway the EMF let out a small buzz and the signal went up. But not by much. Dean and Sam looked at each other and shrugged. Dean continued on and Sam lagged behind, trying to get any 'feelings' from the place. As he was glancing down the hall a light flashed in the mirror next to him and a shadow appeared, then disappeared just as fast. He spun to look directly at the mirror and put his flash light on it, but only saw his own face reflected. All of a sudden his senses felt like they were on over drive. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he got goose bumps all over. He spun around to find Dean and found that he wasn't within view. As he started to take off to find his brother he felt a cold wind blow right through him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the glimpse of another shadow. But when he looked at it straight on it wasn't there. Then he felt something touch his arm. He jerked to the side.

"Dean!" he yelled, and brought his gun up to the ready. But he still couldn't see anything. And then suddenly he smelled smoke. "That can't be good." he muttered. "Hey Dean! Let's go man!"

Dean suddenly reappeared. "What's the problem Sammy?"

"I think we have company, but I can't see it. Do you smell the smoke?"

Dean made a face and sniffed the air, "I don't smell anything."

Sam found that he no longer smelled it either. "I smelled it, but it's gone now." He went quiet.

"You okay?" Dean asked. To him Sam looked confused and on edge.

"Yeah. I think something was just messing with me. Let's go back to the motel so I can do some more research on these people."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah all right. I'm not getting anything." he pocketed his EMF. "I could go for some food. You hungry?"

"Not really, but I'll go with you." Sam said. He still felt on edge. He felt as though they were being watched, even as they made their way out the front door.

Dean didn't miss the way Sam was acting, "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine Dean. Let's just go eat."

"Fine." Dean agreed. He wasn't in the mood to push Sam and get into an argument. There was plenty of time for that tomorrow.

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_The mirror came flying at him, he barely had time to duck. It smashed into the wall behind him. From somewhere to the side he heard Dean screaming something, but he couldn't make out what he was saying over the noise. He still couldn't make out what the noise was, but it was drowning out everything else, even his brother's voice. The smell of smoke was intensifying now, to the point it was almost choking him. But he still couldn't see it. Suddenly a scream filled the house. A woman's scream. He turned to get Dean's attention, but his brother was no where in sight. He began to panic. He knew something wasn't right when they had came here, but he didn't listen to his instinct. He started toward where Dean was last standing. But before he got far he suddenly felt a force hit him square in the chest, causing him to fly back against the wall. _

"_You shouldn't be here." A voice whispered in his ear. He tried to move, but he was pinned. The pressure on his chest was throbbing and causing his breath to hitch in his throat every time he inhaled. Then he saw it. The figure moving down the hallway. No floating down the hallway. Towards him. The closer it got he could see it was a woman in a long full dress. She came up to him. He could almost see through her and he noticed here eyes were black._

"_Everyone will pay for the desecration of our land!" She screamed into his face. _

"_What are you talking about?" he asked._

_Then suddenly the pressure on his chest was released and she vanished. He thought maybe he caught a break and he started to go look for Dean. But he heard that shrill scream again and all of a sudden, all he could see was fire._

Sam shot up, the blankets on the bed tangled around his legs. He was sweating and panting. It took a moment for him to realize it was just a dream, that he was in the motel room. Safe. He glanced toward the other bed and saw that he had not disturbed Dean. He found that a little odd, but was thankful Dean wasn't over him right now demanding a play by play. The clock on the night stand showed it was 3:30 am. With a soft sigh he got out of bed and went into the bathroom, quietly closing the door. He stood in front of the mirror and turned on the tap, splashing cold water on his face.

"It was just a dream." he whispered to his reflection. He put his head down again and splashed more water.

As he did, he never noticed the shadow that was now reflected in the mirror above him. Turning off the light he headed back to bed. Just as he was getting comfortable he heard Dean shift. Before Dean even said a word Sam said, "I'm fine Dean."

In a sleepy voice, Dean replied, "It's 3:30 and we're both up Sam. That's not fine. Vision or nightmare?"

"Neither." Sam lied. "I just had to go the bathroom. That does happen occasionally."

Dean was quiet for a minute. If Sam could have seen him, he would have seen him roll his eyes. "Fine. Be that way Sammy. But next time you lie, at least make it believable and flush the damn toilet." He let out an irritated sigh and rolled over, making sure Sam took the hint and knew the conversation was over.

Sam sighed and shook his head. It sucked to be made a fool of. He really needed to get better at lying quickly like Dean. But his mind was a little foggy right now.

He felt bad. He knew Dean was only worried about him. But it _was_ just a dream. Nothing more. No vision. Hell, he didn't even have a headache. There was no reason to force his brother into any more Dr. Phil moments. God knew they'd had enough of those lately. He even didn't think he could stand another one right now.

"Night Dean." he whispered and laid down.

"Night Sammy." Dean whispered back. But instead of closing his eyes, Dean stared at the curtains, looking at the street light that was shining through the cracks. He was sure Sam had a vision or something. He would just have to wait his brother out until he gave up what was going on. But until then, Dean would make sure he was okay. He lay there, wide awake for another twenty minutes, until he heard Sam's breaths even out and was sure his little brother was asleep. Only then did he close his eyes and relax.

-TBC-

Wow, thank you all for the wonderful reviews you've left so far! I _really_ appreciate them. I just had to do my first chapter that way, and vent a little about Ellen. So hope you like where the story is going. Don't forget to drop me a line!


	3. Chapter 3

D: Same as before; still not mine!

Chapter 3: It Starts

Something very sweet smelling was what roused him. He could distinctly make out the smell of Vanilla, and something else. Coffee? Vanilla Coffee? His eyes snapped open to find Dean standing above him, waving a Starbuck's cup under his nose.

"Morning sweetheart." Dean said with a smirk. He sat the coffee down and moved to the small table by the window.

Sam sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "Can't believe I slept so late. He reached over and grabbed the cup taking a long swallow. It was his favorite. He couldn't help but be surprised. Dean loved his coffee, but he always made fun of what he called Sam's 'sissy' drinks. "Thanks man."

Dean shrugged. "Figured you might need a little pick me up this morning." Dean opened up the laptop and began typing.

Sam studied his brother for a moment. Dean looked tired. He could see circles under his brother's eyes. "How long you been up?"

Dean shrugged again, "A while."

Sam nodded. Leave it to his brother to be cryptic. Sam knew that stuff was still bothering Dean, but he wasn't sure if he should broach the subject. They still hadn't really talked about what happened at the Roadhouse. For some reason Sam just had this all around bad feeling. Weather it was just this case, or his and Dean's relationship, Joe and Ellen, their Dad's death, or a little bit of everything, he couldn't tell. The air around him just felt tense and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

"You gonna drink that before it gets cold or did I waste a trip and five bucks for coffee?" Dean asked, snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

Sam smiled and took another big drink. "I was just thinking." he started.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Why me?"

"Shut up. I'm trying to be serious man."

"Yeah me too." Dean said. "I seriously want to check out that house during the day. You can poke around on the internet, talk to some people. We'll meet back here this afternoon."

Sam's brow furrowed. "You don't want me to come with you? Why?"

"No special reason. Just covering more ground faster. Besides, you have a broken hand and I thought maybe you'd like to take it easy. So sue me!" Dean got up and put his jacket back on.

Sam stood quickly, "Dean, what's going on? I mean, just because my wrist is broke doesn't mean I'm an invalid." Sam had a sneaking suspicion that this was about more than his hand It was about what happened at the house and the spirit playing with him, and his dream. Sam may be the psychic in the family, but Dean seemed to have his own kind of crystal ball.

"Look Sam..." Dean sighed, "Just forget it. Do what you want. But I'm ready to go and you're not. So why don't I come back for you later."

Sam's jaw tightened but he decided not to push. Dean looked a little on edge and truth was Sam wanted to dive into the research pretty heavy before they attempted to rid the house of the witches. Once again he gave in to his brother. "Yeah, I'll see you later. Just leave your cell on!" Sam barely got out before the door closed. He shook his head and headed for the shower.

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Dean fired up his car and took off out of the parking lot before Sam could change his mind. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to Sam at that house yesterday, but he wasn't blind. Something had messed with his brother and shook him up. And even if Sam's dream wasn't a vision, something caused him to have a nightmare. Sam had enough reasons to have nightmares. Dean didn't want him around anything else to add to them. Not to mention he secretly wanted a little time to himself. He was still trying to process everything and he didn't need Sam to try and make him talk.

Dean still wasn't sure exactly how he felt about what happened with Ellen. He didn't really like the woman. He didn't hate her either, but there was a time there when he was to the point of welcoming having allies. Friends even. He caught a glimpse of what it would have been like to have someone to turn to for help. A place he could feel safe and a place for Sam if something ever happened to him. It was just a fleeting moment, but at the time it had felt good. Now that was gone, and he felt somewhat conflicted. They were back to their solitary lives, just like they were used to and he always wanted. But he couldn't keep from feeling that maybe they had just lost another something.

Dean pulled himself out of his thoughts as he pulled up to the house. The sun was shining brightly above it now giving the house a welcome appeal, minus of course the fire damage. He grabbed his EMF and his shot gun and headed up. He made his way inside quickly. He wasn't actually sure what he was looking for. He knew what they were up against. They simply needed to do a salt and burn, or incantation. There was nothing that was going to be there during the day. But he pulled out his EMF anyway.

As he suspected, nothing registered. That was until he got to the upstairs hallway. The machine suddenly went crazy. Dean instantly tensed and prepared himself for some sort of onslaught. But he waited and nothing came. The EMF however did not quiet. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something in the mirror. He spun to face it dead on, but nothing was there. Then he felt a coldness surround him and before he was able to bring his gun up he was pushed violently into the wall. His head slammed into the shelf that just happened to be head high. For a moment he saw stars. He tried to move, but something had him pinned by his chest. For a minute he had a sense of deja vu. He hated being pinned to walls by an invisible force. He was about to make a snide comment to that fact but then he heard a voice whisper closely to his ear.

"_You shouldn't be here."_

"Oh yeah. Guess I missed the sign out front." Dean said sarcastically.

"_Not what I mean. You've been touched by death already. You shouldn't be here."_

Dean's blood turned cold and his breath caught. "I'm so gonna kill you."

The voice laughed. _"He's hiding things from you just as you are him. You can't protect him. You will fail. You shouldn't be here. He knows that. He blames you. It should have been you, not your father."_

Dean suddenly found himself speechless. He was sure all the blood had just drained from his face. He tried with all his might to break free from the hold but just couldn't move. Then as suddenly as it all started, the pressure left his chest and the EMF quieted. The spirit was gone. For a moment he stood there, simply stunned.

"What the hell!" he screamed. "You don't know shit! You hear me! You can read my mind all you want but I'm not gonna buy it!"

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Sam fumed for a little while but quickly got over it as he immersed himself into his research. It didn't take him long to find out where the last family was staying since the fire. During his cab ride to the hotel the Mitchell family was staying at, he thought of the best way to approach them. He didn't think they would buy a fire investigator since the fire was almost a month ago. He also didn't feel confident enough right now to pull off being some reporter. So he decided to give something a try. Something that his brother would call him crazy for. But his gut was telling him that right now it was the best way to go. He would just be honest. Well, mostly honest, he thought as he knocked on the door.

"Can I help you?" the petite woman asked when she opened the door.

"Mrs. Mitchell?" the woman nodded. "Hi, my name is Sam and I'm...I'm an investigator. I was wondering if you have a moment, if I could ask you a few questions about your house fire?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought the fire department was done with the investigation?"

Sam bit his bottom lip. He was a bad liar. "Yeah well, see...I'm not with the fire department." He looked into the woman's eyes and thought, hell with it. "Look Mrs. Mitchell. I'm a paranormal investigator. I believe that there was something happening at your house and that it has been for years on that property. I think you know what I'm talking about and I'd just like to ask some questions."

A shocked expression clouded the woman's face as she studied Sam for several seconds. Then she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. She led the way to a couch and asked him to sit then took a seat in the chair facing him. "Most people thought we were crazy." she suddenly blurted out.

"I don't." Sam told her. "You'd be surprised the stories I've heard. I would like to hear yours."

Mrs. Mitchell hesitated for a moment. "Are you looking to publish a story or something?"

"No ma'am. Truth is, my brother and I we investigate things like this and help out any way we can." Sam said.

"Help how? How do I know you're for real?"

"It depends on the case. If you could tell about what happened before the fire, maybe I could give you some explanations. I don't have any credentials. This is just something my family does. Please believe me, I only want to help."

Mrs. Mitchell took a deep breath. "Where do I start?" she muttered to herself. Then, to Sam's surprise, she just suddenly opened up and started telling him everything. He almost couldn't keep up with her. She told Sam that they were not the type of family who believed in anything paranormal. Until they bought their house. She said that at first it was just little things. Items would be moved, they heard footsteps at night. The one thing that happened the most was catching glimpses of something out of the corner of your eye.

"You would see something in the mirror, or a shadow on the wall, but when you looked directly at it, it was gone." she said. Sam nodded, remembering his own experience. "The worst was when the voices started."

"Voices?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Out of nowhere. It would say things like 'leave' or 'you shouldn't be here' and 'this is our land'. But then...we...the kids...they started having... and so did me and my husband"

"Having what?" Sam pushed.

"Dreams."

"What kind of dreams?"

"Dreams about everyone else. It was weird. In the dreams there was a voice that would start saying things like, 'your husband doesn't love you'." She paused for a minute. "It was like whatever it was, it was playing mind games with us. Trying to turn us against each other. And then sometimes, it would happen, and I would wake up. Only I hand' been asleep. Does that make sense?"

Sam nodded. "That makes sense to me. Look Mrs. Mitchell. My brother and I would like to check out the house if you don't mind." _Even though we already have, _he thought. "I could get back to you after we investigate."

"By all means. My family and I have no desire to go back there."

"What happened the night of the fire?" Sam asked.

"Things had been happening more and more, pushing all of us to our limits of sanity. We really thought we were going crazy. It was a little after ten pm. My husband wasn't home yet. He works late sometimes. I heard a voice coming from upstairs. I went up to check on the kids and when I got to the hallway I glanced in the mirror. I saw her. A woman with black eyes. She said, 'we burned here and now you will too.' Then I suddenly smelled smoke and my kitchen was engulfed in flames in seconds. I didn't think we'd get out in time."

"You must've been terrified." Sam said.

"We were. I just thank God we are all still alive. So you see, I have no problem if you investigate the house. But I would like to know what you think."

Sam stood and headed to the door. "I'll let you know what we find. Thank you Mrs. Mitchell."

As he started walking back to the little motel he and Dean were calling home this week he took out his cell. He hadn't heard from his brother in over three hours. He quickly hit speed dial.

"_What?_" Dean answered harshly.

"Excuse me. I was just making sure you were still alive." Sam retorted. "Where are you?"

"_I'm just leaving the house. Where are you?"_

"I'm walking back to the motel from downtown. Come pick me up. I'm on Fifth Street."

"_I'll be there in five minutes."_

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Sam heard the rumble of the Impala before he saw it. Dean eased up to the curb and Sam jumped in. Sam immediately noticed how tense his brother was. "What's wrong?"

Dean's eyes darted to Sam then back to the road. "Nothing. What'd you find?"

Sam bit his cheek. His brother was a stubborn ass. "I talked to Mrs. Mitchell." Sam went on and told Dean the Mitchell's entire story. "So that pretty much sounds like all the rumors I found on the internet. And my guess is that they really were witches. And I understand the whole fire thing, cause they burned and all. But that doesn't explain why they want to turn people against each other. Why the mind games?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Dude, they're evil. Plain and simple. Evil doesn't need a reason."

"I guess." Sam said.

"Not everything can be reasoned and have some type of logic placed on it Sam. Some things just are. Evil likes to hurt people. That's it's only function. Stop trying to find a reason why for everything."

Sam stared at Dean for a moment. "Did something happen at the house? Did you find anything?"

Dean's jaw twitched slightly. "There was something there, although I guess technically you could say I didn't find anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means it came to me." Dean rubbed his chest without realizing it. "Those bitches like to play rough. We'll just see how they like it when I play rough right back."

"Are you okay Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yeah...yeah." Dean snapped himself out of his daze. "Just a little sore."

Sam wasn't buying it. His brother was way more tense than usual, on the verge of being upset. "Did you hear something? A voice? Did it say something to you?"

Dean cast a quick glance over to Sam. "What's with the twenty questions? I went in, got shoved around a little then left. I'm fine. We just gotta figure out how to get rid of them. Do we know where they're buried?"

Sam shook his head. "Whatever." he muttered to himself. "They weren't buried. Their bodies burned with the house. They're already ash."

"Then I guess you need to do some digging on whatever incantation we need to use to get rid of them." Dean said as he pulled into the motel. "You get started. I'll go grab us something to eat."

Sam was about to protest, then thought better of it. He just needed to be patient. He would get it out of Dean what happened sooner or later. As he slumped over his laptop once more his mind thought back to his dream. The voice had said everyone would pay for the desecration of the land. What did that mean? He was just getting into his research when he felt a cold chill come over him. Then the whispered voice was in his ear again.

'_You can't destroy us.'_

Sam stood and spun around, looking around the room. "What do you want?"

'_Your brother wreaks of death's touch. Did you know he resents you for that?'_

"Get out of my head!" Sam screamed. He grabbed the holy water out of his bag and sprinkled himself with it. Then he grabbed the salt and lined the room. The voice laughed one last time and then was gone, and so was the coldness.

Sam slouched onto the bed. The voices words echoing in his head. "No! No! It was just messing with you Sam. Don't let it get to you." he told himself.

"Talking to yourself Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam's head snapped up. He hadn't even heard Dean come in. "I had a visitor." Sam said.

-TBC-

Thanks again for reading, and for those wonderful reviews! They definitely make my day! Hope this chapter was okay, it's kind of a transition chapter. Next one will really kick into the story! Thanks again!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Mind Games

"So they aren't stuck to the house?" Dean asked, although it wasn't really directed at Sam.

"Apparently." Sam replied. "But why haven't they ever attacked outside of the house before?"

Dean shrugged, "Maybe we pissed them off."

Sam smirked, "Yeah, I could see you doing that. So you wanna tell me what really happened today? Cause I know you haven't been honest with me."

"Yeah because you've been so detailed about your little hallucination." Dean snapped back.

Sam stood and began to pace. Dean was really beginning to infuriate him. "What crawled up your ass?" When Dean didn't answer he continued, "Look man, these things are obviously trying to mess with us. We can't go in there hiding things. You wanna know what it said to me? Fine. It said you resent me."

Dean's head snapped up. "What the hell's that supposed to mean? What do I resent you for?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me." Sam said, sitting directly across from his brother.

Dean shook his head, "Look, you said it yourself. They're trying to mess with us. They obviously know we're going to kill them, they're trying to get to us. That's all." When Sam looked at him doubtfully he said, "I don't resent you for anything Sam."

"Okay. You're right. They're just playing with us. So why don't you tell me what happened to you today."

Once again Dean's hand wandered up to his chest, which was still sore. He saw Sam's eyes widen and knew his little brother was going to start freaking out if he didn't answer his question. "Fine Sam. I went in and was slammed against the wall. Not softly I might add. Someone has a real hard hand." He laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work. If anything Sam seemed to tense even more.

"What did it say?" Sam asked. Although by the look in Dean's eyes, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Dean?"

Dean sighed. "Nothing really Sammy. I don't really even remember."

"You're lying!" Sam said rising to his feet. He was beyond angry now. "Damn you! Why can't you ever be straight with me! I'm not asking you to bare your soul Dean!"

"Good. Cause I did enough of that on the side of the road. Let it go Sam. Let's just get this job done. Find out the info we need, burn some witches, and get out of here. You need to relax man." No way was Dean going to tell Sam what had been said. His little brother carried too much guilt around as it was. Dean was not going to add to his load. Besides, deep down, he knew it wasn't true. Sam may not want their father dead, but he would never hate Dean for it. He knew that. At least, his mind did, he wished his heart knew it too.

Sam sat down and looked intently at Dean. When he spoke he kept his voice calm and even. "I thought we were done with this man. I thought we could talk to each other, that you trusted me. I can't keep doing this with you."

"Aw come on Sam. Don't do that." Sam didn't answer him so Dean continued, changing the subject. "Have you found anything helpful to get rid of them? We're kinda burning daylight here."

Sam sighed. Unfortunately Dean was right. They were burning hours. But when this was over with, they were going to talk. Sam wasn't going to live like this anymore, and if it took giving his brother an ultimatum, then he would.

"Yeah. I think I found something. I need to look into a little more. But I wrote down everything we'll probably need. Why don't you make sure it's all together."

Dean nodded, taking the paper from Sam, happy to be moving on to something useful.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

_Dean ducked as another knife came flying at him. This time it nicked the top of his shoulder. "Bring it on bitch!" he screamed. He ran, making it out of the kitchen to the living room. He knew he had to keep them distracted long enough for Sam to finish drawing the symbols._

"_You can't escape me" the voice whispered in his ear._

"_Sammy!" Dean yelled. His little brother came running down the stairs, looking just as battered as he was. "Sam, we gotta finish the incantation! Are you ready?" Dean was about to say more when that damn voice interrupted again._

"_Do it Sam. You know you hate him. It's his fault your father is gone. Do it Sam. Kill him"_

"_What!" Dean yelled. Then he looked at Sam again, seeing the gun in his hand. Immediately Dean began to back up. "Come on Sam"_

_Sam looked genuinely confused. "Dean? I'm not going to hurt you."_

_Dean backed up a little more. "Then why don't you put the gun down man."_

_Sam looked down at his hands and dropped the gun like it was on fire. "Oh my God Dean. You don't think I'd shoot you?"_

"_But he does. He knows that he should be dead. That it should have been him and not your father. He knows you hate him for it." The voice teased._

"_No!" Sam shouted. He looked at Dean, "Dean please. You know that's not true. They're trying to tear us down. We can't listen. We have to finish the spell."_

_Dean was about to say something when the screams began. His hands flew up to cover his ears. "Sam!" he shouted and began to go towards his brother, and that was when the wall of flames shot up._

"No!" Dean screamed, coming straight up in bed, panting like he'd run a mile.

Sam shot up in his own bed, scrambling to get up but tangling in the bed sheets and falling between the two beds. "What the hell!" He jumped up, ready to take on whatever was in the room. "Dean?"

"Relax Sammy, there's nothing here." Dean said as he rested himself up against the wall.

Sam slumped back down onto his own bed. "What's wrong?" In the small light that was coming through the crack of the curtains Sam could see Dean. His brother's chest was heaving and he was sweaty. "Dean? What happened?"

Dean chuckled slightly, "Sorry man. Guess it was a bad dream."

Sam exhaled loudly. "You scared the shit out of me. You okay?"

"Yeah. Go back to sleep." Dean told him.

Sam sat silent for a minute. A nightmare? Dean didn't have nightmares. And he noticed that since he woke up Dean hadn't looked at him dead on once. "What did you see?"

Dean was startled by Sam's question. "What do you mean what did I see?"

"I mean, what did they show you?" Sam asked, knowing he was on the right track.

Dean swallowed hard. It went against everything he was, but right now his emotions were a little raw and he just wasn't thinking clearly. But his next words seemed to just tumble out. "Do you hate me Sam?"

Sam couldn't have been more surprised if he hit a brick wall. "Wh...what?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Do you hate me?" he practically whispered.

"What would...I mean...why would I hate you?" Sam had no idea what was going on. Dean was really starting to scare him.

Dean blinked and swallowed hard. God, couldn't his little brother use his psychic sense just once and read his mind. Cause now that he started this he couldn't back out. "For Dad. Cause if I could...I would make things right. I'd bring Dad back to you."

Sam was dumbfounded. He was so shocked he couldn't even form the words. He watched as Dean hung his head lower. He knew his silence wasn't giving Dean the reassurance he was seeking, but he just didn't know where to begin. "Dean...man...I thought we were done with this. I don't hate you. I never have, I never could, and I never will. You believe me right? I mean, I'd give anything to have Dad back...but I don't blame you for what happened. And I sure as hell couldn't have made it without you."

Dean felt a sigh escape him, and a weight lifted. Then he shook his head. He knew this. He knew Sam didn't hate him. And why the hell was he suddenly acting like an emotional pre-pubescent girl? "Shit! Those bitches!" He suddenly screamed out, surging out of his bed.

Sam knew exactly what was going on. And he couldn't help but rib his brother. It probably wasn't the best time for it, but he needed to lighten the mood. And to bring Dean back to focus. He reached up and turned on the lamp bathing the room in an eerie glow. "So I'm guessing these chics are going to be beyond your magic charm?" He smiled.

Dean stopped his pacing and smiled back. "This sucks out loud. We're gonna fry them Sam. And I'm gonna smile the whole time."

"That's the Dean I know. So...what did they show you?"

Dean inhaled deeply. "Ah man...I think they know about the spell we're gonna use on them."

Sam shrugged. "It's the only thing I've found. So we don't really have a choice. We're just going to have to be quick."

"Yeah...but just do me a favor and..." Dean was interrupted when the lamp began to flicker. The room suddenly turned cold and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. "What the..." he began to say but was suddenly thrown back against the door. He landed with a loud thump on the floor. He looked up to see Sam falling backwards over his bed. A shrill scream filled the room.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, trying to make his way to his duffle bag and the weapons.

Dean scrambled up off the floor, intending to cross the short distance to his brother and their weapons when suddenly a wave of heat seared up and flames shot up between him and Sam. Dean threw his arms up protectively in front of his face. The flames were so thick he couldn't even see Sam anymore. The heat was intense and he found himself sweating. He couldn't believe that the whole place wasn't burning down around them, but the flames seemed to settle just under the ceiling, keeping between him and his brother. There was also a loud hum that made it impossible to hear anything but it.

"Sam!" Dean shouted. "Sam are you okay?" But Dean didn't get a reply. He was terrified his brother was unconscious on the other side, or already being burned. Without thinking any more about it, he began to step through the flames.

00000000

Sam had fallen hard over the bed, hitting his elbow so hard on the night stand he was sure he broke it. Just as he popped up to see what the hell it was, the flames shot up. The last thing he saw was the surprise on Dean's face. Now, the there was nothing but fire. And intense heat. There was no way he was getting through those flames to Dean. "Dean!" he shouted, but could barely even hear his own voice over the hum. The heat was really beginning to get to him now. The flames seemed to have moved toward him, crowding him back against the wall. Not that he had much room to begin with. He couldn't find their bag with weapons any longer. He quickly ducked into the tiny bathroom, intent on wetting towels and wrapping them around himself to get through the flames. His arm was throbbing, but he ignored it. He didn't have time. As he leaned over the tub and turned on the tap to wet the towels he felt the hair on his neck stand up, and a breath against his neck.

"_You won't have a chance. He'll be dead before you can get to him."_ the voice whispered.

Sam surged up, spewing a litany of Latin repelling rituals. The voice simply laughed. Then suddenly, he heard a small shout that was unmistakenly Dean. He ran out of the bathroom just in time to see his brother in the middle of the flames. "Dean! No!" he screamed. Just as he reached for Dean the hum stopped and the flames disappeared.

Dean immediately slumped to floor unconscious. Sam dropped to the floor next to his brother, frantically reaching for a pulse. He released a loud breath when he found it. The room was eerily quiet. There was no sign the flames had ever been there. Everything was back to normal. Except for his brother, who lay limply in his arms.

"Dean?" Sam called, tapping his cheek lightly. "Dean, wake up. Come on. Dean!" Sam received no response. As gently as he could, and without regard to his injured arm, he hauled Dean from the floor and after struggling for a few moments, got him onto the bed. With fear, he searched his brother for injuries and burns. As he looked Dean over he couldn't believe that he found nothing. No injury, no blood, and most amazingly, no burns. However, that didn't keep the fear away because Dean was still out cold.

Sam went into the bathroom and wet a cloth, bringing it out and putting it against Dean's forehead. "Dean? Nap times over. Wake up!" But his brother showed no signs of doing that.

Sam sat back, and inhaled deeply a couple of times, trying to calm himself. "What the hell just happened?" he whispered to himself.

As he sat, he looked around the room. He couldn't believe after all that fire and heat, there wasn't a sign that anything had happened. Everything was normal. Except it wasn't. As Sam looked around, he couldn't believe that they had forgot it. He jumped up, and as fast as he could, he lined the door and the window with salt. He then formed a tight circle around the beds. He grabbed his laptop and sat next to Dean. He needed more information. He needed his brother to wake up. He tried one more time to rouse Dean with no success. With a sigh, he sat across from him on the other bed opened up his laptop, and as he researched, kept a vigil on his brother.

-TBC-

Thanks somuch for all the reviews! I have been totally blown away. Your kindness is too generous! But please, keep 'em coming! (lol) See you next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello again! Just wanted to give a special thanks to my wonderful reviewers! And another thanks to all those who have just read, and my anonymous reviewers! I appreciate it all!

Chapter 5:

Sam slammed the laptop closed, not even caring if the jarring force broke it. Not a damn thing. Not one damn new thing could he find to help them. It was the same story over and over. Witches, evil, mind games, and fire. And only one way to destroy them. And Sam was pretty sure they weren't going to be able to pull it off without a serious fight. He looked at the clock again, and still only an hour had passed. It felt like forever. Once again he tried to wake his brother, but Dean remained dead to the world. Laying peacefully and breathing even, just as if he were enjoying a good nights sleep.

Sam sighed. What the hell was with their life lately? He could remember back to being kids, traveling and hunting with their Dad. There had always been tight spots, injuries, moments of failure, and plenty of just all around bad times. But it didn't seem like back then, the entire world was out to destroy the Winchesters. Not like now. Weather it was supernatural or human, something was always throwing everything it had at them. Sam wasn't sure how much more they could take. Even if they never got the so called normal life Sam used to want, he sure as hell wished they could go back to the normal they used to have.

As Sam looked on, his brother finally began to stir. Dean took a deep breath, and his brows furrowed together. He began to move. Sam was immediately at his side. "Dean? Come one wake up." Sam said it with a slightly harsh tone, but his brother just didn't respond well to fluffy softness.

Dean's left hand came up and rubbed his forehead. "Man, did you get the number of the truck that hit me?" he asked, then opened his eyes, wincing against the soft light from the lamp.

Sam couldn't help it, he laughed. "Yeah, well, just be happy you're not extra crispy right now."

Dean smirked and pushed himself to an upright position. "That was like walking into a freakin' brick wall. What the hell happened?"

"Why don't you tell me. And wait a minute, did you just mean that you _walked_ into those flames? You weren't pushed?"

Dean pursed his lips. Damn, he slipped again. "Uh...not really...maybe."

Sam's eyes widened and he cocked his head to the side. "And what may I ask possessed you to voluntarily walk into a raging inferno?"

"It wasn't an inferno Sammy. I was trying to get to you."

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Of course. Because that was logical. You were on the side with the door out Dean. You didn't think about maybe leaving the room and finding something to put the fire out with!"

Dean was silent for a minute, his eyes looking down to the worn comforter of the bed. "Huh...that never crossed my mind."

"Whatever." Sam sighed. "You okay now?"

"Just a headache." Dean replied. "How bout you?"

"I've been sitting here for the last hour watching you take a nap and researching. What do you think?" Before Dean could answer he smiled and said, "just a headache."

Dean glanced over at the clock. It was just after three in the morning. "Think they're done for the night?"

"Probably." Sam replied.

Dean nodded. "All right. You get some sleep. We'll get ready tomorrow, and tomorrow night, it's war."

Sam was about to argue with Dean, but the need for sleep was over powering him. "You sure you're okay?"

"Sleep Sam. Now."

"Yeah yeah." Sam mumbled. He thought for sure after Dean turned off the light and settled into his own bed that he would have trouble sleeping. He didn't even remember when his eyes closed.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

The day passed quickly. They always did when something was going down. Dean always hated that. Whenever he had nothing to do or was waiting on something good, it took forever to get there. Whenever he needed the time to prepare for something big or bad it just flew right out the window. And to top it all off, his head was still pounding. He had downed a handful of aspirin, and it wasn't even putting a dent in it. Not to mention Sam's incesscent talking and reminders of how to do the incantation. What was he five? He'd been speaking Latin and doing spells before Sam could wipe his own butt.

Finally, he broke. "Enough Sam! I know what we need to do! You can skip the lesson professor."

Sam sat back and glared at Dean. "I'm making sure we're prepared. These things are going to hit us hard Dean. They aren't going to give us much time to draw the symbols and recite the spell. Not to mention they're probably going to try to play mind games with us. So excuse the hell outta me if I'm making sure all the loose ends are tied!"

"Get your underwear outta of a twist Samantha." Dean snapped and reached up to rub his pounding head.

Immediately Sam felt guilty. "Are you okay?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm hungry. Let's grab a bite. And say we head over in about two hours?"

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the words he would like to say. Like, damn your stubborn, or maybe we should wait. Instead he said, "Fine."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

They pulled up to the house a little after two pm. With the west coast winter upon them it would be dark a little after five pm. They had a lot to do in the next three hours. Dean was simply happy his head had died down to a dull throb, instead of a sharp pounding. He pulled the keys from the ignition and headed out to the trunk. Sam followed suit.

Silently they loaded themselves to the hilt with weapons. They stashed a gun, knife, holy water, and salt where ever their bodies and clothing would hold it. The sun was high in the sky but the air was chilled, and Sam felt like the cold was going through to his bones. He lifted his head and stared at the house. A cold chill ran through him and he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of wrong. The little voice in the back of his head was telling him that something was going to go wrong. Something was going to happen to one of them. He didn't know who, but it usually ended up to be Dean, and he couldn't see this time being different.

Dean saw Sam shiver and watched him as his brother gazed at the house. He thought about making a snide comment about Sam and not being able to handle the cold, but the look on his brother's face stopped that quickly. "What's wrong?"

"What? Uh...nothing...I'm not sure." Sam stammered.

"Spidey sense tingling?" Dean half joked. He still wasn't totally comfortable with his brothers powers or his uncanny ability to know when something was wrong. But he didn't doubt it.

"Something just doesn't feel right man. I'm getting the feeling this isn't a good idea."

Dean paused for a minute, letting his gaze settle over the house too. "Look, it's daylight. They don't seem as pissy during the day. Let's just get the symbols drawn and get it over with. We can't leave them here. They'll just hurt more people."

"I know. Just promise me Dean. Promise me you won't do something stupid. Don't try to be a hero tonight." Sam implored, giving Dean his classic baby brother pleading face.

"Ah Sammy. When do I ever do something stupid? Don't answer that." He walked up to Sam and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's go do what we do best. The rest will work itself out."

Sam nodded and fell into step next to Dean. And though he knew it would piss his brother off, he couldn't help but ask, for both of their sakes, "You remember what to draw right?"

But Dean didn't rise to the occasion. Instead, he was in a very serious mode and simply answered, "I got it Sam. I promise."

Sam opened the door quickly and they made their way inside. As Sam turned to make his way further into the house he stopped when he saw Dean hadn't moved away from the front door. With his foot, Dean grabbed a chair that was close and put it between the door and the frame, keeping the door from closing completely.

"Doesn't hurt to be prepared. Not like we haven't been locked in places before." He laughed slightly.

"Don't remind me." Sam responded.

"Okay. A symbol in each room right?"

Sam nodded. "But the three most important ones in the upstairs hallway. That's where they're strongest cause that's where they ended up burning."

"Okay, you start down here and I'll head upstairs. Come up when you're done." Dean said.

Sam stopped cold, "What? I really don't think we should split up Dean." he said, his voice low and warning.

"Dude, I know you got a bad vibe. But Sam, we don't have a lot of time here. We need to get this done as fast as possible. We just both be real careful and we'll be together when we do the final step. You know I'm right."

"Let me guess, cause your older? Don't answer that. Fine, let's just be quick huh."

"You know where I'll be" Dean said and headed up the stairs.

Sam quickly dug the chalk out of his pocket and set to work. He didn't want to be split from his brother any longer than necessary. He started in the kitchen. Finding a nice flat surface on the wall he began drawing the symbol he had memorized. As he drew he felt the temperature of the room drop. The hair on his neck stood up and goose bumps formed on his arms. _Shit_. Couldn't they hold off just a little longer? He started drawing faster. When he was satisfied with the symbol on the kitchen wall he headed to the living room. Quickly he removed a large mirror from the wall and started in. His hand was moving as fast as it could, but he didn't think it was going to be fast enough. He could feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. "Not now." he muttered to himself.

"_Sam"_

Sam spun around at the call of his name. The room was empty. Without hesitation he turned back to the job, his hand moving even faster now. Damn, it wasn't even dark yet.

"_Sam"_

This time Sam stopped cold, a shiver coursing through his body. He knew that voice. A soft "no" escaped his lips. He stood statue still, not even breathing. "Please not this." he muttered.

"_Sam, I've missed you."_

Slowly, with his arms dropping to his sides, Sam turned around. His eyes widened at the sight before his eyes. "No." he whispered.

"_Aren't you happy to see me?"_

Sam shook his head. "You aren't real." But his eyes were already tearing up. He tried to tell himself this wasn't real, but already his mind was forgetting everything else but the beautiful woman in front of him. "Jessica." he whispered her name. He felt a tear slide down his cheek.

Jessica walked slowly towards him, wearing that beautiful white nightgown he loved so much to see her in. _"Hello my love. It's been so long."_ She came to a stop right in front of Sam. In almost slow motion she reached up and caressed his cheek lovingly. _"Sam"_

"Please." Sam begged, but still found himself leaning into her touch. "You aren't real." he whispered, even as his eyes closed, and he inhaled, smelling the familiar scent of his lover.

"_I'm as real as you want me to be Sam. I can be real if you just let me. We could be together again."_

Sam's mind was reeling. His emotions were threatening to overwhelm him. As much as he knew this wasn't real, as much as it couldn't be, his heart was aching. He was dying to reach out and grab a hold of Jessica. To feel her body against his again. He forced his eyes open. She smiled at him and started to lean in for a kiss. Before he could react her lips were on his. The world around him melted away. It felt so familiar, so real. The kiss ended too soon.

"_Don't you want to be together again Sam?"_

"Of course I do, but this isn't real."

"_All you have to do is one thing. And we can be together again."_

Sam knew he shouldn't, but he asked anyway. "What?"

Jessica smiled. _"Just let go Sam. Let go of your brother when they come for him, let go of yourself. Then you'll be with me."_

Sam closed his eyes as he listened to her voice. He couldn't fight it. All he could see in his mind were memories. He was falling into her. Then suddenly he caught himself. His eyes shot open and his mind finally registered what she had just said. "What!" He backed up quickly, drawing the salt out of his pocket. "Get away from me. You aren't her!" And even though he knew it wasn't really his Jessica, his heart still broke when he threw the salt. She screamed, giving him a pleading look, before dissipating into nothing.

A choked sob escaped Sam as he fell to his knees. "It wasn't her." he whispered to himself over and over.

"_It could have been Sam"_ a distant voice whispered.

-TBC-


	6. Chapter 6

Authors Note: Okay, this chapter is a little shorter than usual. But I've had computer problems and haven't been able to work on the story much. So I thought I'd get this up before everyone forgot about it! Even though it's short, let me know what you thought! And thanks again to everyone for reading and for the reviews!

Chapter 6:

Dean growled in frustration. He wasn't a damn artist. But he figured he was drawing the symbols good enough, cause they just weren't gonna get any better and they didn't have time for Sam to do all of them. He glanced at his watch. They had already been in the house for over an hour and a half. He only had two more symbols to go. Sam should be about done too. Actually, he wondered why his brother hadn't shown up next to him already. After all, Sam was an artist and he was fast. He should have been done already. But knowing his perfectionist brother, Sam was probably worrying with finishing touches. He would probably tell Dean how much his drawings sucked.

Dean was surprised they had lasted this long without the witches making an appearance. He was definitely glad, but something didn't sit right with him. Especially after his dream. He began to feel uneasy and he kept throwing glances over his shoulder and around the room. He kept expecting to be attacked at any minute. Satisfied with the drawing he was working on, he moved into the master bedroom to finish the last one. He had his back to the door, drawing as fast as he could when he heard it. Foot steps. Heavy, not trying to be sneaky. He spun around and almost dropped from shock. The chalk fell out of his hand and so did his gun. His eyes flew wide and his mouth hung open.

"No way." Dean said, shaking his head. "No way."

"_Hey dude." _John Winchester said, smiling at his son.

"Get the hell away from me." Dean shouted.

John smiled. _"Is that any way to talk to your father?"_

"My father's dead and buried."

"_Not buried."_

Dean clenched his jaw. He closed his eyes for a just a moment and took a deep breath. "It won't work. You're not going to get to me."

John began to move closer. Dean backed up, stopping only when he had pinned himself to the wall. _"I thought I made the right decision Dean. I thought it would be better for Sam if it were you here with him and not me. But you're making me think that was the wrong thing to do."_

"What are you talking about?" Dean mentally shouted at himself for having a conversation with this thing, but he couldn't help it.

"_I've always trusted you Dean. You were always a good son. But I don't think Sam is safe with you anymore. Maybe I made the wrong decision."_ John paused for a moment, his eyes shutting briefly before he said, _"I should have let you go."_

Dean was floored. Even though he knew this wasn't real, he felt his heart beat faster, and emotion welling up. Stop it! He told himself. This isn't real.

"_But I am real Dean. I've been watching you. You've been pushing Sam away, letting him get hurt, letting him tell his secret. You must be punished son._"

Dean stood in shock. This thing may not be his dad, but it was right. He didn't know what to do. He looked up and stared into his father's eyes. They eyes that were so familiar to him. And they were just what he remembered. He wished for a moment he could see the yellow eyes staring back at him, so he could know the words weren't real. He shook his head, they aren't real. Stop it. He looked back up again and this time his father was mere inches from him.

"_I'm sorry son."_ John said and began to reach for him.

Dean braced himself, frozen to where he stood. He fully expected something to happen, but not what did happen. Suddenly a bang rang out, echoing off the walls, making his ears ring. Within seconds his father had disappeared. Where he once stood now stood Sam, shotgun in hand, and still smoking.

"Dean? Are you okay? Dean!" Sam shouted, giving his brother a shake.

Dean snapped himself out of his haze. "Yeah...yeah...I'm fine. Thanks Sam."

"What the hell was that? Why weren't you fighting it?" Sam asked, even though deep down after his own experience he knew why. He just never thought his brother would fall for their tricks as easily as he did.

"I...uh...I don't know." Dean was speechless. He honestly didn't know why he wasn't able to do anything but stand there and be manipulated. But he did know. Because no matter what, his heart kept telling him that was his Dad, and he couldn't kill his Dad twice.

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

Dean realized he was dazing off again. "Sorry. Yeah...let's get this over with. This is the last one I have to do." He turned away from Sam quickly and finished off the symbol.

Sam wanted to say something more about what had just happened. Or about what happened to him, but he thought better of it. Dean definitely wouldn't want to talk about it, and now was not the best time to delve into their emotions. So he just fell back into gear.

"Okay, we just need to get the last three done in the hall." Sam glanced at his watch. "It'll be dark in about forty five minutes. We need to hurry."

Dean nodded and followed Sam out of the room, but not before glancing over his shoulder one last time.

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Darkness had fallen over twenty minutes ago, and the boys had finally finished the last symbol. They both took a moment to prepare themselves and get ready for the fight that was sure to be upon them. Sam double checked his weapons. Then suddenly he made a face and said, "Shit!"

"What!" Dean asked, instantly on alert.

"I forgot about the candles!"

"What candles! Damn it Sam, we don't have much time." Dean said.

Sam dug a handful of small round black candles out of his jacket. "We need to light these and put them near some of the symbols. Damn it!" Sam threw a couple at Dean. "We only need three of them, since there was three witches. One downstairs, one up here, and one in the center of the hall."

Dean nodded. "I'll get downstairs done." He started to leave and then turned back. "Be careful Sam."

"Back at you." Sam said.

Dean was lighting the candle in the living room when he heard it. That loud shrieking that seemed to fill the entire house. He squinted his eyes scrunching up his face at the sound. He wanted to cover his ears, but he didn't want to lay down his weapon. He turned and began to run up the stairs to Sam. When he reached the bottom step he looked up to see Sam standing at the top, his expression much the same as Deans.

"Start it Sam!" Dean yelled.

Sam nodded and began to turn away when a flash in the middle of the stair way caught his eye. It was a ball of fire. His eyes widened as he saw the ball of fire head straight down towards Dean. He watched in helplessness as in a split second Dean's eyes widened and he was hit square in the chest, sending him flying backwards.

"Dean! No!"

He landed a good five feet back, hitting the ground with a loud thud that Sam could hear above the screaming. And just as Dean's body relaxed to the floor, the fire ball disappeared and the screaming stopped. Sam took off running down the stairs, falling to his knees beside his brother.

He tore open his jacket and saw the horrible scorched shirt and burns along Dean's chest.

"Dean! Dean, open your eyes man!" Sam urged, gently slapping Dean's cheeks.

Dean gasped, jerking for the breath that was knocked out of him. Sam grabbed him behind his shoulders and helped him sit up a little to catch his breath. His eyes fluttered open and he saw Sam's worried face on top of his.

"Deep, slow breaths Dean." Sam commanded. "You're okay."

"Sam...Sammy" Dean gasped out. "I'm okay. Just...start it." He managed out. He felt as if he would never get his breath back.

Sam looked at him hesitantly. "Dean.."

Dean shook his head. "It's only going to get worse. I'll be right behind you. Go."

Sam nodded. He made sure Dean was able to sit up on his own, and with one last worried glance he headed back up the stairs. Dean was right. Things were only going to go downhill from here, and he needed to get the ritual started. He headed toward the main circle they had drawn on the floor. From what he read, if they stood in the middle of it while they read, they should be protected. Immediately as he started reciting the words, the screaming filled the house again. Sam kept glancing nervously at the stairway, silently pleading Dean to be okay and hurry up. Less than a minute later his brother was making his way to him. Dean looked worse for wear, but he was up and walking. Sam locked eyes with him, but didn't stop chanting.

Dean slowly made his way towards his little brother, trying his best to ignore the screams surrounding them. His chest burned like a bitch, and he still found it hard to get a decent breath, but there was no way he was going to let his little brother do this alone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the large vial. Before Sam could protest he poured a ring of salt around his little brother. "You stay there and don't stop Sam. No matter what." Dean ordered. He then took up watch just outside the circle.

Sam wanted to argue with his brother, but by now the screaming was so loud his voice wouldn't have reached Dean's ears. And he couldn't stop the words now. But he did manage to get his brother's attention when he first saw the witch appear out of no where. Dean was on it quick. He raised up his shotgun and fired, filling her full of rock salt. She dissipated quickly, but the next one just took her place. However, she just stood perfectly still, watching the brothers with a smirk on her face. Suddenly they felt the house literally shuddered. The movement was so severe it knocked both of them to their knees.

Suddenly, what few items remained in the house seemed to take on a life of their own and began flying at Sam and Dean. Sam ducked as a large mirror came at him. But instead of flying past and hitting the wall, it stopped mid air and shattered. Glass shards flew over both of them, giving them small cuts on their faces, slicing through clothing. Dean had managed to a crouch and was turning to fire on her when he was hit by an invisible force and thrown back into the wall.

Dean saw Sam start to leave the circle and he shook his head, yelling, "Don't you dare Sam! You're almost done!"

And Sam was almost done. He watched as Dean was thrown again from the wall to the floor face first. He winced in sympathy, then winced for real when he felt something hard slam into his back knocking him forward. Something else hit the back of his head, but before he everything went black, he was able to mutter out the last of the ritual.

Dean watched at Sam lost consciousness. He was still pinned flat to the floor, a heavy weight on his chest. And as he tried to move, he realized that with the last throw he had broken his arm. He stopped struggling. Sam had finished the ritual. Everything should be over soon.

At least that was what he thought.

-TBC-


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Wow! I thought I'd never get my computer fixed enough to get this out! Dumb computers! But anyway, here it is. A special thanks to everyone who has continued to read. And I've loved the reviews! Thanks!

Chapter 7:

He woke up coughing. When had he passed out? He couldn't remember. All he knew now was that he was inhaling thick smoke, and he could feel the heat of the fire. He opened his eyes, focused and saw that the walls around them were beginning to burn. His body ached, and when he tried to shift himself up to a sitting position he was painfully reminded he had a broken arm. But he struggled, and managed. That's when he heard the soft voice. His head whipped to the side and he found his brother.

Somehow, when Sam had passed out, or was knocked out actually, he fell outside the protective circle. "Of course." Dean muttered. But that wasn't what bothered him. The woman kneeling over Sam, whispering words and touching him is what bothered him. And it sure didn't help the fact that the woman looked just like Jessica. And as she stroked Sam's face and talked, Sam who was wide awake now, was making no move to do anything about it. Dean looked around and found his discarded shot gun. He began to crawl over to it. The smoke was now thicker and the flames were really beginning to take over everything. He was sure it wouldn't be long before the house collapsed around them. As he moved he caught some of what the witch was saying to Sam.

"_Just reverse it Sam, reverse it and we can be together forever."_

Dean reached his gun and pulled himself off the floor. "Get away from him bitch." he growled.

The witch jerked her head up, glaring at Dean. As he stared at her he could see her fade in and out. It is working he thought. "Give it up sweetheart, you're dying. For good this time."

"_You haven't won. We can still take him with us."_ she said, and placed her hands on Sam's chest. To prove her point a light eminated from her hands and Sam writhed up in agony, a silent scream leaving his mouth.

Dean didn't hesitate any longer. He raised the shotgun with one arm and fired. The kick sent him stumbling back, but he caught his footing quickly. The witch was almost faded out, so Dean fired one more shot just for good measure. When she had completely disappeared Dean ran to Sam. He dropped to his knees next to his brother.

"Sam! Sammy, are you okay?"

Sam blinked his eyes lazily a few times. His hands lifted and settled on his chest, rubbing lightly. "Damn, that hurt." he rasped out.

Dean let out a laugh of relief. "We gotta go man. The place is about to burn down around us."

Sam began to get himself up, with the help of Dean's good arm. "It's not real Dean." Sam said, even as he coughed from the smoke.

"It sure as hell feels real Sammy. Now let's move." Dean ordered.

They began to stagger to the stairway, looking like a couple of drunks swaying and bumping into walls as they walked. "I thought you said this spell would kill them." Dean said.

"It will. I guess it just takes a little while." Sam responded.

"You didn't feel the need to share that information Sam?"

"Hey, I don't know everything." Sam protested.

"Says the college boy." Dean quipped. They reached the top of the stairs. Dean shook his head. With the way Sam was swaying and staggering he hoped they made it down. Just as he was about to say something he heard a whoosh sound behind him. He turned to look and was knocked off balance by a large mirror that brushed his broken arm. He yelped in pain. As he began to fall, he felt Sam loose his balance also. Dean reached out quickly with his good arm and grabbed Sam just before he tumbled down the stairs, throwing them both back down onto the floor.

They lay there, both panting, trying to catch their breath, but not being able to due to the smoke. "We gotta move or we aren't making it out of here." Dean said.

"No kidding." Sam said and began coughing again. Dean looked at Sam and immediately noticed the blood trickling down his neck. Before getting them up he took Sam's chin and looked at his eyes. The pupils were both uneven.

"Great, you have a concussion."

"I could have told you that." Sam said, his words a little slow. He began to try and get up, but his balance was now completely gone and his vision was beyond blurry.

Dean stood and heaved him up. "Damn it Sam, work with me here. My arm's broken. I can't carry you out man."

"I'm trying." Sam whined.

When they stood, Sam swayed and pushed against Dean, knocking them into a wall, and into flames. Dean screamed when he felt his pant leg catch the flame. He let go of Sam for a split second to pat the flame out. When he reached for Sam he saw that the back of his jacket had caught fire.

"Sam!" He pulled Sam away from the wall and shoved his jacket off. With his good arm he grabbed Sam around the waist. "Time to go." Sam slung an arm around Dean's neck and let him begin to guide him down the stairs. His mind was swimming and his legs just did not want to cooperate. But he was determined not to fall.

Dean felt like it was taking hours to maneuver down the stairs. But as much as his adrenaline was pumping and as much as he knew they needed to pick up the pace, there was no way his brother could move any faster. And since Dean couldn't carry him, they had to move slow. Halfway down, Dean could feel the flames licking at their backs. Suddenly the bannister next to them lit up and Dean flung them to the opposite side of the stairs, hugging the wall. Sweat was dripping into his eyes, and no matter how hard he tried, there was no way to get a decent lung full of air.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity on the stairs, they reached the bottom. The front door was in sight. Amazingly the chair was still holding it open. "Almost there Sammy." Dean encouraged.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but felt a sudden pain in his head and before he could get the words out, darkness over took him. His body sagged against his brother.

Dean was taken off guard by Sam's sudden weight, falling to the side himself. They both landed roughly on the floor. "Sam!" Dean shouted, hovering over his unconscious brother. "Sam wake up!" Dean slapped Sam's cheek lightly, eliciting no response. "Damn!" he cursed.

Having no other choice, Dean dropped his shot gun and stood. He then bent back over, and using his good arm, he grabbed a hold of the back collar of Sam's shirt and began to drag him to the door. Even when they were in a dire situation, Dean couldn't miss an opportunity to make a sarcastic remark. "Damn Sammy, I thought health food nuts were supposed to be light. You way a ton." Of course, he didn't get the usual response back from his brother. "We're almost there little brother. Just a little more."

And that's when he heard it, the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming. He dropped his hold on Sam and spun around. The entire down stairs was burning now, and the cloud of smoke was thick, but he could still see her. And this time this witch didn't pass herself off as anyone.

"_You stupid little boy. You've destroyed my sisters, do you really think that before I join them I'm going to let you out of here?"_

Dean's eyes skirted back and forth, but his gun was no where in sight. Of course not, it was behind them where he dropped it so he could drag his brother. Now what? he thought. He looked at the witch again. She was fading in and out just as bad as the other one did, but for some reason Dean could feel her power. She was stronger than the other ones.

Slowly Dean began to reach into his pocket, trying to get to the last vial of salt he had. But just as his hand moved, so did the witch's. With a sudden force, he was thrown backwards, landing far from the door, and Sam.

"_I am going to enjoy watching you burn. But first, you're going to watch your brother burn, just like I did my sisters." _The witch said, now standing over him.

Dean's eyes flew to Sam and saw the flames nearing his brother. "No way bitch!" And with strength he thought had left him, he flew to his feet surprising both himself and the witch. He managed the vial out of his pocket, and before she knew what hit her, the witch was doused. She screamed. The sound echoing and piercing his ears. The house around them shuddered and groaned, the roof making noises as if warning of it's impending implosion.

Dean didn't hesitate. He pushed past his pain and haze, ignored the smoke burning his throat and lungs, ignored the flames dancing around him and made his way to Sam. The flames had made their way to Sam's legs, but Dean didn't stop to think. He ripped off his jacket, yelling in pain when he moved his broken arm, but pushing on. He slapped Sam's legs with his jacket, dousing the flames. The house shuddered again, and as Dean looked up he could see the roof was about to give. He grabbed Sam's collar again, and with a scream of frustration and fear, he pulled.

The house was falling down around them, the front windows shattering from the heat, sending glass flying his way. He felt pieces of the ceiling above them fall around him. He felt flames dance out and touch him. But he ignored it all. He ignored the heaving of his chest, the sweat pouring down his face, and with all of his might, pulled his brother to the front door. He grabbed the handled, turned it, and yanked the door open. But he didn't even stop to take a breath of the fresh air, he simply kept pulling on Sam. They needed to get away from the house, and he wasn't going to stop until they made it to the car. Even when he reached the steps of the front porch, he kept going. Stumbling and dragging his brother, whispering apologies as Sam's legs thumped each wooden step. He made it to the middle of the front yard. His precious Impala was just within reach. They were going to make it. Dean felt a glimmer of hope. Until his vision suddenly blurred and the last thing he saw was the ground coming up to meet his face.

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Sirens. Loud, urgent voices, cars. The sounds invaded his ears. His eyes fluttered.

"That's it, come on open your eyes." A voice encouraged him. A voice that definitely was not Sam's.

His eyes shot open, and at the same time he tried to sit up. But hands grabbed his shoulders, gently but firmly. "Easy. You're going to be okay." The hands shoved him back flat. "I'm a paramedic. We're getting ready to take you to the hospital. Can you tell me your name?"

Dean let his gaze wander to the man. Yep, he was in a medics uniform. His eyes wandered around, taking in what he could see. There was a police car off to the right, and a fire truck, and fireman putting out what was left of the house.

"Sir? Can you tell me your name?" The paramedic asked again.

"Dean." His voice sounded like sand paper.

"Okay Dean, everything's going to be fine."

"My brother." Dean rasped out.

"Brother?" The medic questioned. "The other guy with you is your brother?" Dean nodded. "He's already on his way to the hospital. We're about to join him there, okay? You just relax." And with that he placed an oxygen mask over Dean's face.

Dean did as he was told and laid his head back. He could take a moment to indulge and rest, knowing that Sam was already being taken care of. That his little brother wasn't dead. Everything else he could worry about later. He let his eyes drift close.

The next time Dean opened his eyes, he knew exactly where he was. The sounds and smell were unmistakable. He always did hate hospitals. He took a moment to take stock of himself. He was hooked up to a heart monitor and an oxygen mask. His left arm was in a cast, and his body felt beat to hell. But he was only in a small amount of pain, so he figured the IV in his hand must be doing it's job. The next thought he had; Sammy. He was about to start ripping the machinery off of him when he heard someone clear their throat. He looked up to see a woman walking towards his bed.

As she came up to stand next to him she gave him a warm smile. "I'm Mrs. Mitchell." She stated. When Dean gave her a clueless look she continued, "the owner of the house you and your brother Sam were investigating."

Dean ripped the oxygen mask off. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice extremely scratchy.

"It's okay." She said soothing, placing a hand on his arm. "Sam told me what you two were doing. I came to thank you for trying to help. And to see if there was anything I could do for you boys."

Dean was a little shocked. "Uh...we'll be okay. I just need to see my brother."

Mrs. Mitchell nodded. "All right then. I just wanted to say thank you. May I ask a question?"

Dean nodded. "Sure."

"Did it work? I mean, did you get rid of whatever was there?" She asked with a very expectant tone to her voice.

"Yeah. What was there is gone now."

She smiled. "Thank you. And please, if you need anything, let me know. My family owes you boys."

She started to walk away, but Dean suddenly thought of something. "Uh...actually. I know the cops are going to want to know what happened and why we were there. What exactly are you gonna tell them?"

Mrs Mitchell smiled brightly, "After talking with your brother the other day, I figured you boys weren't all that public about what you do. So when the police asked me earlier tonight what you were doing there, I told them you were contractors that I was having give an estimate for repairs. They won't be bothering you."

Once again Dean was shocked. It wasn't often that someone showed them so much kindness. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. I'll let the nurse know you're awake on my way out." She gave Dean one last sweet smile and left the room.

Dean sighed with relief. But he still needed to find out how Sam was. He was about to make a break out the bed when the doctor came through the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to see my brother." Dean said.

The doctor walked up to Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm Doctor White. How about you and me talk first."

Dean had a sudden knot in his stomach. "What's wrong? How is Sam?"

"Mr. Phillips," the doctor stated. He had obviously got his name from the current drivers license Dean was using. "Please, let's go over your condition, and then I will go over your brother's, okay?"

Dean was getting frustrated. But he knew that it was better to cooperate then to fight. After all, the doc here had the power to sedate him, and he didn't want that. Dean nodded, "Okay."

Doctor White smiled. "I have to say, both of you boys were very lucky. You Mr. Phillips have a broken arm, a cracked rib, smoke inhalation, your body looks like it was someone's personal punching bag, and a slight concussion. After a some rest, you'll make a full recovery. Of course, you'll be sore for a time to come, but we'll give you some pain medication for that."

"Yeah yeah," Dean quipped, "Not he first time doc. How's Sam?"

The doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "You need to take this seriously Mr. Phillips. While you will recover, your injuries were serious. You need total rest."

Dean inhaled deeply and released a sigh. "Will do Doc. Now please, how is Sam?"

Dr. White opened a second chart. "Sam Phillips. He had quite a few similar injuries as you. However, his head injury was more severe. I believe he will physically make a full recovery..."

Dean interrupted. "Physically? What's going on doc?"

Doctor White took a deep breath. "As I said, physically after some rest, Sam will make a full recovery. However, there was a complication from his head injury."

Dean sat up, ignoring the protest of his body. "What the hell are you talking about!" Dean shouted, tired of this freakin' doctor and his cryptic talk.

"Mr. Phillips. Your brother Sam, he has amnesia."

-TBC-


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Three days. It had been three days since he found out Sam had no memory. It had been three days since Dean fought with the doctor to give him the release papers. And a lot of arguing. The doctor finally gave in, giving Dean an ample supply of antibiotics, pain pills, burn cream, and strict orders to rest. And it took three days for the staff to get it through their heads that Dean wouldn't be leaving Sam's side. Screw hospital protocol. They could all kiss his ass for all he cared.

And it had been three days of sitting there, watching Sam sleep, and watching Sam wake up just to look at him and have no idea who he was. And the worst part was, this stranger in front of Dean. He still had Sam's voice, his expressions, but he wasn't Sammy. Every time they talked, Dean's heart broke a little more. He answered the same questions over and over. Finally, when Sam opened his eyes now, he remembered they were brothers. But he was an endless round of questions. Questions Dean just couldn't answer right now. How did you explain their lives to someone who's mind was a blank slate? Some one who woke up with a normal mind, they'd never understand or believe. And he was too worried about Sam's mental state right now to even begin to tell the truth. So he did what Dean Winchester did best. He dodged and deflected. But he didn't know how much longer he could keep it up. And he had no idea what he was going to do when they released Sam. What was he going to do? Drive Sam to a motel and say yeah, this is home. Until we leave to the next one. That was sure to not go over smoothly.

It was ironic really. Sam Winchester had wanted his entire life to be nothing but normal. To be a normal kid going to college with a girlfriend, with hopes to get married, have kids, and a normal job. Something he never was. But now, in a horrible twist of fate, this Sam was totally normal. All he wanted was to know about his life, where his parents were, what happened. He had no idea that they had lived their lives on the dark side, that they were hunting and being hunted by a demon. How could he break it to his brother a second time that he wasn't normal?

"Hey."

Dean was snapped out of his thoughts by Sam's voice. He gave his brother a warm smile. "Hey Sam." Dean was trying to refrain from calling him Sammy. It just didn't feel right. "How you feeling?"

"I'm good." Sam reached up to rub his head. "Still a little bit of a headache."

Dean nodded. For a minute they both stared at each other in an awkward silence. "So..." Dean started to say.

Sam interrupted. "You look tired man. How long have you been here?"

Dean's heart broke again. The concern in Sam's voice was all his brother. "I'm fine Sam. Look, the doctor said if you're doing okay you can get out of here tomorrow."

Sam smiled. "That'd be nice. I'm a little tired of the food they serve around here. I'd like to get something good." He paused for a minute, contemplating. "What's my favorite food?"

Dean had to smile. "Well, I'd say tofu, but you'd probably get all pissy."

Sam just gave him a confused look.

"That was a joke Sam." Dean shook his head. "Never mind. Tell you what, when we get outta here I'll take you anywhere you want and we'll eat like kings."

Sam smiled. "That sounds good." They paused in an awkward silence again. But once again Sam started in with the questions. "I know you said we're on a road trip, but since we were in that accident, are we going to go home now?"

Dean sighed. "Look Sam, I know you have so many questions. But I just can't explain everything right now. Just let the doctors take care of you and when they release you, we'll have a long talk."

A small look of fear flashed through Sam's eyes. "Why can't you tell me anything about our lives?" he asked quietly. "You're making me a little scared here. I mean, are we fugitives or something?" he asked with a shaky laugh.

Dean wished he could laugh back. Yeah, they were fugitives or something. "Look Sam. Don't be afraid. I'm your brother. It's my job to look after you. Just don't worry about anything. Just get better."

Sam nodded and the room fell into silence again. But as Dean looked down at the floor he could feel Sam's eyes boring into him. He looked up and yep, Sam was staring at him. "What?"

"Every time I wake up you're here." Sam stated.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah? I'm your brother. Where else would I be?"

Sam gave a small smile. "By the looks of you, you should be in the bed next to me."

Dean actually laughed. "Sam my boy, if you could remember right now, you'd know that nothing keeps me down in bed for long."

"That's the problem." Sam mumbled. He laid back and got comfortable on the bed again.

"Aw Sam. You heard what the doctor said. Give it time. He's pretty sure your memory's gonna come back."

"And if it doesn't?" Sam asked sadly.

Dean got up and stood over Sam. He patted him lightly on the arm. "Then we'll work it out. Weather you remember me or not, I'm still your big brother. I'll always take care of you."

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The next afternoon Dean and Sam were getting comfortable back at their hotel room. Dean had abandoned the one they were originally staying at and rented a nicer room, one with two bedrooms. He figured, given the circumstances Sam would appreciate it. Not that his brother even remembered they usually shared a room. And true to his word, Dean had taken them to a nice restaurant and they had in fact eaten like kings. They also got a myriad of looks from people. Both Dean and Sam had to laugh. They did look a mess still.

But now, Sam was resting on the couch in the living area watching tv, and Dean was staring at the laptop, stress causing his brows to furrow and his lips to frown. Just that morning he had received a call from an David, an old friend. Dean didn't have many friends or people to count on, and he had hit it off well with David. He had helped David out with a black dog situation a couple of years back. He then stuck around town for a while and hung out with David. Dean genuinely liked the guy and David had treated him good, even paying him for the job afterwards. Now it seemed as though his sister was having trouble with the new house she just moved into. Dean had surmised it was probably an average haunting. An easy salt and burning of the bones and all would be well again.

Of course, that phone call was what brought on the added stress. He couldn't say no to the job. It wouldn't be right. But he sure as hell couldn't drag Sam along with him, and there was no way he was leaving him behind in some strange motel room. What the hell was he going to do?

"You look upset." Sam spoke up.

Dean looked up to find his brother staring intently at him. "Just thinking." Dean replied.

Sam paused for a minute. He wanted some more answers, but every time he asked Dean anything, his brother seemed to get mad. But how was he supposed to get his memory back if he didn't get those answers? "Thinking about telling me some more about my life?" He tried.

Dean sighed. He knew he couldn't deflect much longer, at least not without alienating his own brother. But now was not the time. "Look Sam. Can we not get into this right now?"

"Why? I mean come on Dean. You're supposed to be brother. Why won't you help me?" Sam pleaded.

That plead tore into Dean's heart. But he had to stay strong. Sam would understand. Or so he hoped. "Look Sam. I got a phone call from an old friend. He needs some help and I can't say no right now."

"So what's that supposed to mean?" Sam said angrily. He was beyond frustrated. He just couldn't understand why this person who claimed to be his brother was ignoring him.

"That means that we need to take a little road trip. I've been thinking. Where I need to go is only about an hour out from a friend of ours. His name's Bobby. I'm gonna drop you off there, take care of this then come back. And then, I promise you, I will sit down with you and tell you everything about your and our lives. I promise."

"So you're just gonna dump me off somewhere with someone I don't know." Sam spat out. He sat himself up straight on the couch and leaned forward. If his body felt a little better he would have stood up and got in Dean's face.

"You know Bobby Sam. You'll be fine there for just a night." Dean tried to explain.

"So you say." This time Sam did get to his feet. He rose to his full height, fists clenching at his sides. "Ever since I woke up all you've done is tell me what I'm going to do. You won't give me answers or explanations, and you act like I'm five years old! I may not have a memory, but I'm an adult Dean, and I deserve respect. Especially from someone who's supposed to be my brother!"

Dean was taken back somewhat. Sam may not have a memory, but boy he could have sworn he'd heard words similar to that a thousand times over. He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. "Sammy, I get what you're saying man. I do. And God help me I wish things were different. Hell I wish I could trade places with you. But please, just have a little trust in me for a couple more days."

"I don't have much choice do I?" Sam spat out, then turned and hobbled to his room, slamming the door after he entered.

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They pulled up to Bobby's house a day later. The entire ride had been spent in a tense silence. Since their argument Sam hadn't said more than maybe five words to Dean. Dean reached up and rubbed at his head again. Between the injuries from their last job and the situation between him and Sam, his head had a constant throb.

As they exited the car Bobby came out to the front porch. "Good to see you again boys." he greeted.

Dean walked up and shook his hand. "Thanks again Bobby. I really appreciate this."

"No problem Dean. Like I said, anytime." Bobby turned to Sam. He noticed the tension and anger in the boy right away. He also sensed his confusion. He reached out a hand to Sam and shook it warmly. "Hey there Sam. I'm Bobby."

"Hi." Sam said quietly.

"Well boys, come on in. I got some food cookin' for you. Come in, take a load off."

The boys followed Bobby in, Sam reluctantly taking a seat on the couch. He let his gaze wander around the room. The place was a mess. But what really grabbed his attention was the amount of books. They literally covered the room. Sam was immediately curious and wanted to browse through them, but he reined himself in. He may have known this man previously, but he didn't now and he wasn't sure he should just help himself. He could hear Bobby and Dean talking in the next room. He couldn't make out what they were saying though.

He sat back and dropped his head to the back of the couch. The last few days since he left the hospital were taking a toll on him. He was beyond tired. His head throbbed, his body ached, and his mind was a maze that he couldn't seem to navigate. He knew his memories were there. They felt just out of reach. It was like wanting to say something that was on the tip of your tongue, but not being able to find the words. It was driving him crazy. And then there was Dean. Sam really did feel bad about how he had been treating Dean. But his brother was frustrating him so much. He could sense Dean was keeping something from him. But the harder he pushed, it seemed Dean shut him out that much more. He didn't know what to do.

"Hey Sam." Dean said as he re-entered the room.

Sam picked his head up and wearily looked at Dean. "What?"

Dean closed his eyes for a brief second, not liking the tension between them. "I've gotta get going. Bobby here will take good care of you. I'll be back by morning. If you need anything just call my cell."

"Yeah okay." Sam said cooly.

"Yeah...so, get some rest. See you tomorrow." Dean said. He gave Bobby a resigned look said a quick thanks and walked out the door.

Sam listened to the Impala roar to life and pull away. He couldn't help the quick tinge of guilt he felt for not being nicer. And he suddenly had a horrible feeling of being abandoned. He watched as Bobby came and took a seat in front of him.

"You hungry?" Bobby asked.

Sam shrugged. "A little."

"Good. Then come on in the kitchen. Hope you like spaghetti cause that's about all I can cook."

Bobby said and laughed.

Sam was already beginning to feel at ease. "Guess we'll find out. I don't really remember what I like."

Bobby laughed. "I seem to recall you enjoying my spaghetti. That was about the only thing I could get you to eat when you were young."

"So how long have you known me?" Sam asked him.

"Oh, I met your father before you and Dean were even teenagers. Never met two boys who were as different as night and day, yet so much alike. It's no wonder you've always driven each other nuts."

"Guess some things haven't changed." Sam muttered. "So, can I ask you some questions about my life?"

Bobby hesitated a minute. "Look Sam. I'm here to help. But I better leave that up to Dean. It ain't my place."

Sam felt another let down hit him hard. His appetite had suddenly vanished. He looked at his watch and saw that it was only eight o'clock. But he wanted to be alone. "Hey Bobby, I'm feeling a little tired. Can you show me where I'll be sleeping?"

Bobby got the message. He wanted to help the boy out, but he also didn't want to make Dean angry. It really wasn't his place to break the news about their lives to Sam. "Sure kid. Got the guest room all fixed up for you."

Sam lay on the bed staring into the darkness. His mind was buzzing with so many questions. And he was getting angrier by the minute. He felt like getting up, grabbing his bag and leaving. Just out of spite. But unfortunately he had no idea if he had anywhere else to go, so he resigned himself to the fact that he had to wait for Dean to return.

As he went to roll over and get comfortable, a stabbing pain shot through his head and his vision suddenly went white. He yelped in pain and grabbed his head, doubling over into a fetal position. "Oh God! What's happening!" he whispered. Then suddenly, like a movie playing in his eye lids.

He saw Dean. Dean in a field. A shovel and duffel bag laying at his feet. He was standing in front of a fire in some kind of hole. He saw Dean watch the fire, unmoving. Then he saw his brother bend down to grab the duffel bag. Dean suddenly stilled, as if he heard something behind him. He turned quickly but before he could do anything he was hit by something and sent backwards, landing hard on the ground. And not moving.

Sam's vision returned to normal suddenly. "Dean!" he screamed, launching himself out of bed.

-TBC-

A/N: Yeay, I can post! Just wanted to say, with the site not working so hot right now, that I sent a reply to all my reviewers on the last chapter. I hope you all got them, but if not, let me just say thanks again. And thanks to everyone for continuing to read!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Final chapter! Hope everyone likes the ending. And once again, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read. And a special thanks to those who have reviewed. With the site being down so much recently, I'm not sure if all of the reviewers have received my replies, but I thank you all for each review. I loved them all!

Chapter 9:

Dean had pushed his beloved car at over eighty miles an hour for the last hour. All he wanted to do was get this freakin' job over with and get back to Sam. Not to mention he would love to be able to just sleep. For one entire night, completely sleep. His body was still far from healed, and the headache just would not go away. Not to mention he was getting damn tired of the cast on his arm. He knew he was wrong to leave Sam behind with Bobby. He knew Sam would be perfectly safe, but that didn't do anything to make the pain and betrayal he saw flash in his brother's eyes all right. Right now though, he had no choice.

Finally reaching his destination, Dean pulled his car down the dirt driveway parking behind the house. The family had left the house for the weekend, allowing him to do whatever needed to be done. Thankfully, through his research and the family's help he had no need to go into the house. He had found out that the body was buried in an old family cemetery in the pasture behind the house. The cemetery was tucked away, nestled next to a small hill. Throughout the years it had been preserved as an historical site and nothing had been disturbed. That was until tonight when Dean was done digging up the grave and burning the bones. With a grunt he hauled his duffle back up over his shoulder and with his good arm grabbed the shovel.

The night air was cold and he could see his breath with every exhale. He knew he should be focused on the job at hand, but as he walked all he could think of was Sam. He knew his brother, and he knew that right now Sam was probably badgering Bobby with questions. Questions that Bobby would refuse to answer. Dean hated to think of the wrath he was going to face from his brother when he got back. But he would keep his promise. When he was done here, he would go back to Sam, sit him down and tell him everything, then brace himself for the whatever happened after that.

Almost fifteen minutes later, with his legs and back protesting the long walk, he reached his destination. Thankfully the headstones on the graves had also been preserved. Dean smiled to himself. If he was feeling better, this would really be a piece of cake. He couldn't have asked for an easier job. Of course, that thought left his head as soon as he realized he was going to be digging one handed. "Damn it" he cursed. "Quit bitchin' Dean and get it over with." he mumbled. He set up the flashlight on his duffle bag, casting light over the grave, and began to dig.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam tripped on his blankets and fell onto the floor with a grunt. He yelled out in surprise when the bedroom door flew open and the light went out revealing Bobby standing in the doorway, a shotgun aimed and ready.

"Sam!" Bobby yelled when he saw the boy on the floor. "What is it!"

Sam sat in shock unable to answer for a few minutes. "Uh...bad dream. You think you can not point that gun at me?"

Bobby heaved a sigh of relief and lowered the gun. "Damn it boy, I thought somethin' was here. A bad dream?" He asked as he watched Sam rub his forehead. "Sam?"

"Uh? Yeah. Sorry to wake you up. Just a dream." Sam said as he pushed himself up off the floor.

Bobby watched in silence for a minute. The boys had told him before about Sam's visions and nightmares. Dean had also told him that Sam's visions came with severe head pain. And as Bobby watched Sam sink back onto the bed, his head in his hands, he began to wonder.

He walked over and sat next to Sam, ignoring the way the boy's body tensed. "Headache?"

Sam slid his eyes over to him for a minute. "Yeah. I'll be fine. You can go back to bed."

Bobby nodded but made no attempt to move. "So you wanna tell me about the dream. Cause I heard you yellin' out for your brother."

"Nothing to tell really. It was just a bad dream. It's just...it was weird."

"Weird how?" Bobby pushed, he was getting his own feeling about what was happening. He may come off as an old hillbilly but he wasn't slow on the uptake.

"I don't know. It was like, more real than a dream. And there was this flash of white light. It was just...it was so real." Sam repeated. He had no idea how to explain it. "It left me with a bad feeling. Like something isn't right."

Bobby was sure now what was going on. He had heard Sam call out for Dean, and if Dean was in trouble they needed to hurry. "Sam. Did you see something bad happen to Dean?"

"Yeah." Sam whispered. He shook his head. "That was a horrible dream."

Suddenly Bobby shot up off the bed. "Get dressed Sam. I'll call Dean then we're outta here."

"What?" Sam asked, confused by Bobby's sudden freak out.

"Damn it boy, get dressed and get out to the truck. We've gotta get to your brother now!" With that Bobby left the room in search of his phone and weapons.

Sam sat for a moment in shock, completely confused. What the hell was this all about? He was tempted to just sit there until the man explained why a bad dream had him all freaked out. But a little voice was nagging at the back of his mind. Something told him that his brother was in trouble and right now was not the time to question it. He quickly got up and got dressed.

Thirty minutes into the drive Sam threw the cell phone into the seat. "He's not answering." He told Bobby, his own panic rising due to the seriousness of the man he was sitting next to.

"Don't worry. We'll get there in time." Bobby said.

"In time for what? You want to tell me what the hell is going on! Why are we freaking out over a bad dream? Why are we chasing down my brother?"

"Fine boy, I'm gonna lay it out and you're just gonna have to take it on faith. I don't feel like twenty questions right now. Okay?"

Sam was silenced by the urgency in Bobby's voice. He simply nodded.

"You Sam are a psychic. You have visions. And most of the time they come true. What you had back there was a vision. And if you saw something happening to Dean then it's going to. That's why we're in an all fire hurry to get to him."

Sam gave him a 'yeah right' look. "A psychic? You expect me to believe that?"

"You saw it not me. And right now kid, I don't care. I'm a little more worried about Dean. That boy ain't in any shape to fight."

Sam's jaw tensed. Once again there was that feeling. The one that said Bobby was right, Dean was in danger. The one that said he knew damn good and well what was going on. It was telling him to shut up and accept it. So why couldn't he?

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

It took Dean almost forty minutes to dig the damn hole. And he cursed the entire time. But he finally reached the old wooden coffin. He was extremely happy about that. The old wooden ones were so easy to bust open. With very little effort the wood crumbled beneath the shovel, displaying a pile of bones beneath. "Bout damn time." Dean muttered to himself as he climbed out of the hole. He took the salt and poured it liberally over the bones as well a lighter fluid. He was just about to light a match when he heard a hissing sound. He snapped his head up and saw the apparition.

"Oh come on! I'm almost done!" Dean shouted. It moved fast and before he knew it, his legs were knocked out and he landed on his back, yelling out in pain as his broken arm landed across the shovel. "Damn it!" He quickly rolled himself over and began searching for the book of matches he dropped. As he did he noticed that the dirt on the edge of the hole was slowly falling back in.

"No way! That took me all night you freak!" Dean yelled at the ghost. He continued searching for the matches. Just as his hand grabbed them and he began to stand he was pushed back down again. "Fine, you wanna play that way! I can light 'em from here you know!"

Dean pulled off a match and struck it. All the while the ghost was hissing in anger. Before it could attack further Dean threw the match. The grave lit up in flames instantly. Dean also felt the pressure release off of him and he was able to stand. With a smirk of satisfaction, he stood by the grave watching the bones burn. Suddenly he heard a voice.

Dean spun around, peering into the darkness. There it was again. Bobby? He could have sworn that was Bobby's voice. But it couldn't be. Then he saw two lights bobbing up and down. Flashlights. Two dark figures were starting to come into view. Just in case he picked up his gun. A few seconds later and the figures came into full view. It was Sam and Bobby. What the hell?

Just as Dean was about to say something he saw a look of horror come across Sam's face.

"Dean, look out!" Sam yelled.

But Dean didn't have a chance to react. Before he could turn around he felt the blow to the back of his head and the last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to meet his face.

"Dean! No!" Sam took off running and so did Bobby. Sam raised the gun Bobby had given him and fired two expert shots at the ghost, filling it with rock salt. It disappeared with a hiss.

Sam dropped next to Dean. As he reached for his brother and cradled him in his arms, he felt a wave rush over him. It was like being hit by a tidal wave. There was no more blank space. Everything came rushing back to him. His entire life, the last few days. Everything. "Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed. His emotions were overwhelming. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped.

"Easy kid. Just me." Bobby said. "The bones have burned enough. It's gone."

"Good." Sam turned his attention back to Dean. "Dean? Dean can you hear me?"

"How bad?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know." Sam ran his hands over Dean's head. "There's no blood."

"Let's get this fire out and we'll get him home." Bobby said.

Sam nodded and let Bobby do all the work. He simply sat, holding Dean, trying to hold back the tears. "Dean, come on. Don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." he whispered.

Bobby placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Come on Sam. Let's get him out of here."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

An hour and a half later Sam found himself sitting on the bed next to his still unconscious brother. They had driven back to Bobby's house in complete silence. Sam didn't dare open his mouth. His emotions were in over drive and he had no idea what to say. His mind was just trying to comprehend what had happened. He couldn't describe the feeling of going from totally blank, having everyone around him being a stranger, to being himself again within a matter of seconds. All he could think of was, how could he have ever forgotten who he was? How could he have forgotten Dean? He remembered those feeling from when he first woke up in the hospital. How when he looked at Dean, he simply saw some guy standing there. He felt nothing toward him. Sam couldn't imagine how Dean dealt with that. If the situation had been reversed, Sam thought his heart would break in two. But Dean had been so strong for him. Trying to help him. He thought back to how Dean would dodge his questions. He was so angry at Dean then, but now, he understood completely. He couldn't imagine how he would have reacted if Dean had been honest with him those first couple of days.

Sam looked at his watch. Dean had been out for far too long. Add tonight up with his other injuries and Sam was starting to get scared. He was about to go in search of Bobby when he appeared at the door.

"He ain't woke up yet?" Bobby asked.

Sam shook his head. "Think we should take him to the hospital?"

"Nah." Bobby came into the room and took a seat in the chair opposite the bed. "He took a pretty good hit. But I'm thinkin' that after the last couple of days, maybe this is his body's way of healin'."

"You think?" Sam asked, not quite assured.

"Sam, your brother's been under a lot of stress lately. What with your daddy and then your condition the last couple of days. Not to mention he's just as banged up as you. I don't think the boy's had a good nights sleep in at least the last week. So let's give him a little longer. If he don't come around in about an hour or so, we'll take him to the hospital."

Sam looked down at the floor. He nodded at Bobby. But he couldn't meet the man's eyes. Bobby was right. Dean had been put through the ringer and having Sam loose his memory and sulk around angrily for the last couple of days hadn't helped.

Bobby sighed. "Sammy. Quit thinkin'. Nothin going on here is your fault. Things just happen. All you need to do is concentrate on gettin' better, and Dean too. Why don't you try and get some rest."

"Yeah." Bobby got up to leave the room but Sam stopped him. "How do you think it happened?" he asked.

"What?" Bobby asked.

"My memory. How did it just come back all of a sudden like that?"

"My theory? I think seein' your brother in trouble like that, it just came back to you. Don't know what else coulda' done it." Bobby said.

"Yeah, probably." Sam agreed.

Sam stretched out on the bed next to Dean. He wasn't planning on falling asleep, but his body just needed to relax. Suddenly Dean shifted against him and moaned.

Sam shot up to a sitting position. "Dean? Come on man wake up."

"Mmmhhh." Dean muttered, his eyes fluttering, then slowly opening.

"That's it. Hey man, you okay?" Sam asked nervously.

Dean shifted his head back and forth a little, blinking his eyes to adjust to the light. "What happened?" He asked.

Sam sighed with relief when Dean finally focused on him and spoke. "Man that ghost whacked you with your own shovel. You've been out for hours dude."

Dean's brow furrowed. "Ghost? Shovel? What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam's face dropped. "The job you were doing for a friend. You know. You were burning the bones. But before it was gone completely it tried to take you with it. Are you in pain, can you see all right. What's wrong Dean?" Sam asked quickly, starting to freak out.

Dean rubbed his forehead. "Slow down trigger. One question at a time. My head hurts like hell. Where am I?"

"We're back at Bobby's." Sam said slowly as he watched Dean scan the room. Sam swallowed thickly. Dean wasn't acting right. "Dean? You okay man?"

Dean turned to him with a look of confusion. "Who are you?"

Sam's jaw hit the floor. "Oh my god." he whispered, fear lacing his voice. "Dean? Do you know who you are?"

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it closed. He shifted slightly the bed, wincing, then shook his head slowly.

Sam's breath hitched. "It's okay. Just relax. Uhm...you don't...you don't know me?"

"Look, can you just tell me what happened?" Dean asked.

"Just lay there a minute Dean. I'm gonna get Bobby and get you to the hospital." Sam said, panic lacing his voice. "It'll be okay. Don't be scared." Sam said, trying to calm Dean, or himself, he couldn't tell.

He had jumped off the bed and just about to head for the door when he saw the small smirk on Dean's lips. Sam went from panicked to pissed in zero seconds. "You asshole! You were screwing with me!"

"Don't be scared." Dean mocked, using Sam's frightened tone. He started laughing. "Man you should have seen the look on your face. Priceless." He laughed harder, clutching his head as pain shot through him. "Ow!" He howled.

"You deserve it you prick!" Sam shouted. "That was just wrong Dean. Wrong!"

"Maybe. But now you know how I felt." Dean said, still laughing. "Besides, it was just funny."

Sam gave the bed a swift kick. "Screw you! You're a friggin' jerk! I hope your head hurts like hell."

"Oh it does, but that was just worth it."

Sam flipped Dean off and was about to storm out of the room when Dean stopped him. "Wait Sam." Dean stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and got serious. "Okay man. I'm sorry. It wasn't funny."

Sam shook his head. "I know I've been a pain in the ass for a couple of days, but that was mean Dean."

"I said I was sorry."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, apology accepted. Seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine Sam." They both fell into a silence for a minute. Then Dean asked, "what about you? You okay?"

"Yeah, actually I'm great. I can remember everything now." Sam said.

"How did it happen?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure. Bobby thinks that when I saw you get hurt, it caused everything to rush back."

"Ah Sammy. Your love for me brought you back. Hold me." Dean said sweetly, holding out his arms.

"I hate you." Sam said and got up.

"Where you going?" Dean asked, sitting himself up.

"I'm getting you something to eat and some water. And then, and these are Bobby's orders, the two of us are taking a couple days off to do nothing but sit here and rest. Bobby said the room is ours for as long as we need it. And we are going to stay at least three days. Those are my orders."

"Little Sammy becoming assertive? Not a good style for you little brother. Doesn't fit." Dean teased.

Sam got real serious and sat down next to Dean. "I'm serious Dean. We've been through too much the last couple of months. We both need some time to let our bodies heal. And I think we both need some down time to work out some other things. Just do this for me. Please."

Dean knew Sam added the please on purpose. Sam knew Dean couldn't refuse a plea from his little brother. And Dean also recognized that this was Sam's way of getting Dean to get over some of his issues without having to talk about them. And that Dean was very grateful for.

"All right Sammy." Sam smiled and got up again to leave. "Hey Sammy." Dean said. As Sam turned to him Dean gave him a very serious look.

"Glad to have you back."

-The End-


End file.
